


Honey

by horselizard



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Blindfolds, Established Relationship, Food Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Messy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, mlm author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horselizard/pseuds/horselizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rimmer gets off on being put in sticky situations. Lister is only too happy to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Taste of Honey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029986) by [felineranger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/felineranger/pseuds/felineranger). 



> Written for the Starbuggers Red Dwarf Kink Meme. Original prompt: "Lister, Rimmer and a jar of honey."
> 
> I would have had absolutely no idea how to approach this trope if felineranger hadn't written a fill for the prompt first, so I am hugely in her debt (and y'all should check it out, it's gorgeous).
> 
> Also, I think the relationship dynamic owes a lot to the way Saylee writes the pairing (in particular in the fantastically hot [Light Bondage](http://archiveofourown.org/works/962535)), so I'm grateful to her for pointers on how to have Rimmer and Lister not just being complete bastards to each other. :D

They didn't come up here often, but sometimes, only a proper old-fashioned bed would do. They'd thought about moving it down from the Captain's suite, but in all honesty they'd got used to the cosy crampedness of the bunks. Besides, it was just enough of a trek from their quarters to make it feel _really_ special when they did make the effort.

Rimmer lay spreadeagled on the sheets, a black silk scarf across his eyes. When he'd approached his lover and, blushing and stammering, asked him to “surprise me”, it had taken Lister a few hours to come up with a plan. But he'd known straightaway that the first step would be to blindfold him.

The second step, too, had been obvious: he'd taken his time stripping him naked, eliciting nothing in the way of protests beyond the occasional embarrassed whimper. The blindfold had had a curious effect on Rimmer; usually so quick with his sharp tongue, he'd fallen silent just as though someone had put a cloth over his cage. And the third step was one they'd often experimented with before: four more “borrowed” silk scarves anchoring Rimmer's wrists and ankles gently but firmly to the cast-iron bedframe.

In his vulnerable position, Rimmer was taut with anticipation as he waited to find out what the fourth step would be. He always got a fierce thrill from putting himself in his lover's hands, but he could never quite shake the instinctive pang of fear from being at someone else's mercy. He hated losing control, but at the same time he loved it, revealing such an intimate side of himself to someone he trusted... _almost_ absolutely.

He strained his ears, struggled to sense Lister's presence, but he was being uncharacteristically delicate in his movements. He heard an odd, metallic pop, and caught a faint hint of a strange, sweet aroma – one he recognised, but couldn't place. There was a pause _just_ long enough to set his mind racing with vague and terrible thoughts about what those clues might mean; then he gasped, as a globule of something cold and soft and viscous landed directly between his collarbones.

He heard Lister laugh, and he blushed – both at his startled reaction, and at his inability to work out what, exactly, was going over him. Whatever it was, Lister was slowly pouring a thick, sticky curtain of it right down the middle of his chest... and it didn't seem likely that he would stop once he'd passed his navel. Every new millimetre of skin that he covered with the stuff was shocked into delicious alertness by the cold. Meanwhile, further up, as the heat of his body warmed the layer of syrupy mess, it started to grow runnier, spreading out over his torso; little trickles began making their way down his sides at the speed of Chinese torture.

By the time the path Lister was tracing had crept down to his groin, he was already half-hard, overwhelmed with the sensations he was trying to process – sensations which were only heightened by his inability to see. He yelped with bewildered pleasure as the smooth, viscous liquid enveloped his burgeoning erection, and heard Lister chuckle again.

“Oh, you like that, do you?” Lister teased, in a voice as syrupy as whatever he was tipping all over his lover. Rimmer could only squeak incoherently in reply, as the stuff slopped and slithered and trickled down over his rapidly stiffening member. He could have sworn that Lister spent a lot longer than was necessary hovering over _that_ particular area, determined to ensure that his cock and balls were even more thoroughly coated than the rest of him already was. He whined when, as a side effect, some of the liquid dripped down between his legs, caressing his perineum.

Finally, once Lister had dribbled the sticky substance with that same slow patience all the way down each leg and arm, once it was warm and runny and had crept out across almost every inch of his skin, once it was trickling down him and dripping onto the sheets, off came the blindfold. He blinked stupidly, ripped all of a sudden out of his little bubble of sensory stimulus, and saw Lister grinning down at him... still fully clothed.

Lister smirked at his double-take. “What's the matter, Rimmer?” he asked innocently. “Are you feeling a bit vulnerable?”

Rimmer groaned, and a further rush of arousal went straight to his cock. Lister knew how much effort it had taken him to overcome his deep discomfort at being seen naked, even by a lover; he knew that even now, after he'd grown comfortable with revealing his body in the bedroom, it still made him squirm to be the one who stripped off first. And as for lying in front of his fully-dressed partner naked, tied up, and covered in...

…his eye fell on the almost-empty jar in Lister's hand. It was honey. Sticky, sweet, runny honey, slathered all over him. He looked down at himself, his skin glistening with the slippery golden liquid, and groaned again as heat started to prickle across his cheeks.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Lister grinned. Rimmer felt too foolish even to manage a scowl.

“No wonder, the mess you're in,” he continued with a smirk. “Just look at you. There's honey _everywhere_. You're a disgrace, aren't you, Rimmer?”

“Yes,” Rimmer squeaked, thrilling at Lister's taunts. “Oh, I'm a complete disgrace...”

“And you're even getting honey on the sheets,” Lister tutted. “Silly, sticky smegger. Aren't you ashamed of how messy you are?”

“I'm most dreadfully ashamed,” Rimmer whispered, his cheeks scarlet as Lister drove home what a pathetic predicament he was in.

“Well, it doesn't _look_ like you are,” Lister countered, raising an eyebrow pointedly at his genital area. “It looks like you're getting off on it. On being tied up, and naked, and completely covered in honey. You're loving it, aren't you?”

“Lister, please,” Rimmer whimpered, squirming. The mockery was powerfully arousing, but only because it was almost unbearably close to home.

Lister's wicked smile softened as he watched Rimmer looking up at him pleadingly. “Tell the truth,” he said simply.

Rimmer swallowed, and worked up his courage. “Yes, I am,” he said in a small voice, “but only because you're here to see what an absolute mess I look.”

Lister grinned fondly, and Rimmer's heart leapt with delight that his painful admission had pleased his lover. But then the mischievous glint came back into Lister's eyes, and he faltered, excitement and dread fighting for prime position as he wondered what was coming next.

“Well, Rimmer,” Lister began, “there's only one way a shameless little thing like you could _possibly_ get any messier...”

“Oh, _no-o-o_ ,” Rimmer moaned, his dick throbbing with renewed vigour, as Lister advanced on him with the jar.

“Oh, don't give me that,” Lister grinned, leaning over him. “You want me to do it, don't you? You want to show me just how messy you can get.”

Rimmer groaned, took a deep breath, and nodded timidly. Then he shut his eyes as Lister raised the almost-empty jar of honey, and upended it over his face.

He squirmed as the cold, sticky liquid dripped onto his shame-pink cheeks, cooling the heat of his blush with a sharpness that was shocking. It started to trickle down towards his neck, a slippery caress against highly sensitive skin, as more honey came dribbling down to cover his eyes and nose and mouth. He lay there, helpless and blinded once again, shivers of arousal running through him at the thought of how completely Lister had taken control over him.

“Oh, Rimmer,” came Lister's playful voice from somewhere near his ear, “what a sight you look now. You know, I really _don't_ think you could get any messier if you tried. And you really have been trying, haven't you? Making me pour a whole jar of gooey, sticky, runny honey over you... forcing me to cover you in it from head to foot...”

Even coated in the thick, cold syrup, Rimmer's cheeks were making a valiant effort at burning. He parted his lips to let out a whimper, and almost had a coughing fit when the action resulted in a few drops of honey falling straight down his throat.

“Oh, eh,” Lister giggled, breaking character, “are you all right?”

Rimmer nodded, not daring to open his mouth again, and feeling very silly. Suddenly, the soft warmth of his lover's lips landed on his, and he started to feel much better.

He shivered into the tender kiss, the sudden connection giving him an intense rush of comfort. After spending so long staked out at Lister's mercy, cold and naked and sticky and untouched under his mischievously attentive gaze, the heat of Lister's hungry mouth on his was electrifying. He tasted little hints of sweetness as Lister's tongue nudged against his, fresh from exploring his honey-covered lips.

Then Lister gently pulled away, and Rimmer couldn't help letting out a small, bereft whimper. “Poor you,” his lover chuckled, “you're really helpless, aren't you? No idea what I might be about to do to you... and you couldn't stop it, even if you knew.”

Gripped by a fresh thrill of fear, Rimmer gave a meek whine, and Lister laughed fondly. “Well, as much fun as it is, I should probably cut you a break.” Rimmer felt a gentle pressure on his eyelids, and screwed them more tightly shut as he realised Lister was trying to wipe the honey from his eyes. He blinked cautiously, and found himself looking up into his lover's grinning face.

There was a smear of honey on the tip of Lister's nose, which had presumably got there during the kissing. Taken by surprise at the comical sight, Rimmer was unable to suppress a snigger – which quickly died in his throat as he realised he must look a hundred times more ridiculous himself, with a thick layer of the stuff coating his face.

Lister's eyes sparkled. “You're cute,” he said tenderly.

Everything else, Rimmer could handle: the taunts, the teasing, the helpless vulnerability. But the warm glow that welled up inside him at Lister's adoring kindness was more than he could take. “Cute?” he muttered gruffly, not knowing where to look in his embarrassment. “This is what passes for cute in your book? Well, there's no accounting for taste, that's for sure, but I'll make a note of it. Perhaps I should get myself covered in goo more oft-”

His halfhearted diatribe was cut off as Lister pushed a sticky forefinger between his lips. “Yeah, you really should,” he grinned, as Rimmer dazedly succumbed to the temptation of licking first one, then another probing finger thoroughly clean of honey. “Cos you look gorgeous like that. Slippery, and sweet, and spread out like a feast... and all for me.”

Rimmer's cock was ramrod stiff, his eyes as wide as saucers, as Lister slowly started to unbutton his clothes. “Even so,” he sighed in mock disappointment, “I suppose even a silly, messy, gorgeous little smeghead like _you_ has to be cleaned up sooner or later.” He pulled his t-shirt over his head, and fixed Rimmer with a meaningful look. “It'll be a sticky job, though. A _very_ sticky job.” His remaining clothes dropped to the floor, and he stepped out of them, clambering onto the bed and looming predatorily over his defenceless lover. “And it'll be you who has to clean _me_ up afterwards.”

Rimmer gasped, closing his eyes, as Lister settled his warm bulk on top of his slippery body, and began to suck and nip at his shoulder. A sticky job, indeed, and the way Lister's erection was rubbing back and forth against his honey-slick stomach, liable to get rather stickier rather quickly. But before it came to that, he was sure, Lister would have another surprise or two up his sleeve.

After all, the honey really had gone _everywhere_.


End file.
